Together Together
by Kaizen Kitty
Summary: Pre-series, Sam and Dean experimented kissing together. Now, season 1 episode 6 (Skin), a shapeshifter takes on Dean's form and rapes Sammy... warnings for slash and wincest.
1. The Past

A/N: Takes place pre-series. Sam is 17, Dean 21, they've just exorcised a Black Widow (=ghost woman who has sex with virgin males and then eats them) together with John. Sam has always had bad luck with girls...

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><p>The Past<p>

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><p>'Hey, I'm sorry, that was a bad joke,' said Dean,<p>

opening the door to the bedroom where Sam was sitting, all alone. Light beamed inside from the corridor, falling just over Sam's spread legs. Dean heard a tiny laugh.

'No, it's okay. Maybe you're right, maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.'

Sam leaned forward so that Dean could see his face, it had a sardonic tint to it. Dean walked further inside, closing the door behind him. He sat down on the spare bed, facing Sam.

'Maybe it's saying something, that the first girl who paid attention to me was a Black Widow,' said Sam,

holding his head in his hands. Dean's eyes adjusted to the dark, and now he could clearly see that Sam's bed hadn't been slept on - Sammy hadn't been sleeping all night. Dean shook his head.

'No, forget about that. You can't help it if that ghost woman likes only virgins.'

'It was my first time Dean, how am I supposed to forget that?'

He didn't know what to say. He could tell Sam that he was going to be fine, but what did he really know? Dean reached out to pat his brother's shoulder, but Sammy swatted his hand away.

'You go on and on about your first time! It's been five years and still you won't shut up about it.'

'Well, Sammy,'

'Well what?'

'I'm sorry.'

Sam dropped down on his bed with a poof, letting the matress indent and bounce back. They listened to their father work in the other room, which meant sharpening knives and noises of other weapons being unloaded and dismantled. John took his job seriously, he never let Sam or Dean even come near his arsenal.

'I want to try something,' said Sam, sitting up.

'Yeah,'

Dean didn't get what his brother was hinting at, but nodded anyway. Sam edged closer.

'Can I kiss you?'

'What?!'

Unconsciously, Dean moved further onto his bed, further away from Sam. Goosebumps ran over his bare arms, this felt wrong, and yet his heart was beating faster, almost leaping out his chest. Dean gulped. Why did Sam have to be such a pretty boy?

'Oh you think it's better if I practice on dad, or one of the guys at school - sure, that'll blow over in no time. Or perhaps I should wait for some ghost boy to show up - good idea.'

Dean shook his head.

'Sammy, I was only teasing you. It's okay if you do it with guys, really, I don't mind.'

'Then let me practice on you. I want to know what it feels like, kissing, with a guy.'

Dean looked his brother up and down, trying to understand if Sam was messing with his head or not. Finally he coughed, and said dryly

'It's no different from kissing a girl.'

'How would you know? Ever tried it?'

Dean gasped, then immediately shouted, his credibility as big brother on the line here,

'No! But dude, come on, what could be so different? It's the same basic shtick: you press your lips together, then put your tongue in their mouth. Rotate it a couple of times, done.'

'Only one way to find out.'

Sam got off his bed, and took a small step in Dean's direction. His hands hung at his sides, he moved slowly and deliberately. When Sam got like this, there was no stopping him, not without a fight. And dad would definitely notice if they fought, and regardless of who started it, it would be his fault, again! Dean sighed, giving in had never been his forte.

'Fine, you can kiss me,' he said, clenching his teeth and trying to find something besides Sam to look at.

He settled for the clock that hung over Sam's bed, he watched the seconds tick away with pure dread. Sam knelt down before him, and tentatively, slowly, closed his eyes and leaned forward. Sam's breath warmed Dean's lips, hot and brief, making Dean tingle all over. The goosebumps were back, man this was worse than kissing a girl. He closed his eyes and waited. Sam's lips connected with his, then it was over, before it had even fully started. Dean opened his eyes. He saw Sam sitting on the opposite bed, looking all guilty and flustered.

'That's it?'

'Huh, what do you mean?'

'No wonder the girls don't like you.'

'Hey! You want rough, I'll give you rough.'

Sam charged up, and before Dean could stop him, Sam was already in his lap, straddling him and grabbing hold of his jaw. Lips brushed lips, soft then immediately hard, pumping up the pressure. They were crashing, smashing, bruising Dean's lips. He tried to push Sam off, but the other had both arms around him, and he wouldn't let go. They breathed through their noses, quick, erratic breaths, smooching sounds as their lips sucked then separated, re-attaching again. Sam pushed himself further, deeper into Dean, his hips grinding dangerously against Dean's belly. A tongue slipped inside his mouth. Dean pushed it out, but it came back with renewed force. Dean trailed his own tongue over Sam's teeth, and Sam shifted closer yet, wrapping his jean-clad legs around Dean's back. They were too close. This had to stop. Now.

Dean retracted his tongue, and put a hand on Sam's heaving chest, he pushed. Sam didn't give up easily, but soon enough their kiss broke, and Dean was panting for air, staring down at his rumpled blankets, Sam still on his lap but not so unbearably close. He found his brother searching his eyes, wordlessly asking 'why'. Dean pointed at Sam's lap.

'I said you could kiss me, not whatever it is you're doing.'

'Oh!'

Sam was hard.

'Yes, I think that proves it - you're gay. You can get off me now.'

But Sammy didn't get up, instead he sat there frowning for a couple of minutes. Then he looked Dean straight in the eye.

'No.'

And kissed him, caressing Dean's back with his slender arms.

'S-Sammy! What are you- Let go I tell you!'

A hand grabbed Dean's crotch, it certainly wasn't his.

'Sammy,'

'What, don't like it when I do this to you?'

Sam grit his teeth.

'It's no different than with a girl, right?'

'Okay, I take that back, but this is different. You're my fucking brother!'

Dean swallowed when feeling the first signs. It always began with prickling, a new part of him coming to life, breathing. Then came the heat, he was hot all over, he was sweating. His eyes clouded over, and he got angry because his feelings started to show, he grasped at the last strands of self control, and lost them. Sam was never supposed so see him like this, and yet...

'You're hard too. Does that mean you're gay?'

Sam retracted his hand and let go, shuddering a bit as he stood, shakily walking to his own bed. There he lay down on his side, facing the wall, the clock ticked its last seconds till three. Dean heaved a sigh of relief. At least he was warmer now, and Sam had stopped the silly game he'd been playing.

'Sammy,'

Silence. Dean scowled - this was why relationships always gave him such a headache, he was more of a one-night kind of guy.

'Oh come on, don't make a big deal outta this.'

'What, you want me to jerk you off now?'

That didn't sound like a bad idea, actually...

'No, of course not!'

'Then what do you want?'

Sam turned over on his back, watching Dean. The gray bags under his eyes reminded Dean that he should be letting Sam sleep. But he had to say something, it felt awfully wrong, to just leave it at this. Dean frowned, then just blurted the first thing that came to mind.

'You're a good kisser, a natural, just like me. I think it runs in the family. You're just too nice with girls, afraid to show them your real side. Just find the right girl, that's all - one you can trust completely, and you'll be fine.'

They shared a long stare, watching each others faces for signs, signs of something else. The implicit statement that Sam trusted Dean more than anyone else hung in the air, but neither brother was willing to say it. A simple 'I trust you' would've been enough. Instead Sam rolled over on his mattress with a 'Good night', because that wasn't how society worked. And even they, even now, after all that had happened, were still part of society. Two brothers together? That would never work out. Dean kept staring at Sam in the dark, until finally he fell asleep crying.


	2. Present Day

A/N: First Season, episode 6 (Skin - violent shapeshifter takes on the form of boyfriends and sexually assaults their women), Sam is 22, Dean 26. Dean gets to have his way with Sam. Only it's not Dean...

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><p>Present Day<p>

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><p>Sam was tied up, thick rope around his legs, over his arms, constricting his neck. Sam was tied to a chair, his legs parted and head pulled back. He could hear some dripping noises down the sewers. It stunk. If not for the filthy gag in his mouth, he would've vomited. Sam closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was somewhere else. But then a sharp, thin object trailed down his throat, and the fantasy was broken. The shapeshifter licked his lips, then chuckled, retracting his jack-knife.<p>

'You're cute,'

Sam's stomach muscles tensed. Sam watched the man walk around his little lair, digging up bottles, knives, and more ropes. The man returned, stooping down, terribly close, and let his hand rest on Sam's thigh. He moved it around a bit, patting Sam's leg.

'We're going to have a little fun together, little brother.'

'You're not my brother!' Sam wanted to shout around the gag, but all that came out was a faint mumble.

The shifter laughed. He started undoing Sam's shoes, taking his time, playing with the laces, sometimes tickling at Sam's ankles, other times rubbing his calves. His socks were taken off, carefully, a fleshy hand grabbed his bare feet. Sam winced. He wasn't supposed to like this, it shouldn't feel good. He'd rather be revolted, rather pass out and die than this. The man looked too much like Dean, acted like Dean. But he wasn't, wasn't, wasn't Dean! The shapeshifter leaned forwards, rising up to Sam's face, trailing hands over Sam's legs till they came to rest on Sam's hips.

'Do you like this?'

The shifter licked his lips. He even smelled like Dean, Sam noted. And when those lips came closer and pressed wetly just under his ear, they felt like Dean's.

'Well that's a shame, cause I don't.'

A hand slapped across Sam's face, bouncing his head back. Sam coughed, squinting in pain. While the shapeshifter loomed over him, picking a blade from the nearby table.

'Now which one should I use first?'

Sam couldn't help it when his lower lip trembled. The maniac's hand paused over a scalpel, but then moved on.

'Nah, I did that yesterday,'

Wrestling against the ropes, Sam tried to pull free. The ropes only cut his wrists, and the knots became stronger, tighter. There was no escape. The shapeshifter pulled out a pair of scissors and charged at Sam.

'Hahaha, don't close your eyes. Look at me!'

Scissors aimed at his chest. The shifter pulled at his shirt, and began cutting, destroying, demolishing Sam's tee. Then he ripped the shirt apart and palms came in contact with Sam's chest, his abs, his nipples. The shapeshifter paused just under Sam's left nipple, where his heart was beating hard and fast, desperate to live.

'How about we start here?' said the shifter, whispering into Sam's ear.

He pulled away and got a kitchen knife from the table, one of those big, sharp kitchen knives, used for making salads. Sam wriggled his legs, faster, faster, as the madman approached, weilding the knife.

'I've never done men before, but I guess there's a first to everything.'

The shapeshifter sat down in Sam's lap, on the chair, smoothing his hand over Sam's chest. Every time the hand left Sam he felt cold, shivers running over him, reminding of the sewers, the cold air, the stench. Sam shut his eyes and prayed. He knew he was going to die, it was okay, if only he could see Jessica again, and Dean... Sam's eyes flashed open. Dean! Why oh why did he have to die like this? Was it some kind of sick joke, was it...punishment? The knife cut deeper into Sam's chest, making him groan. Not-Dean cupped his chin and kissed him full on the lips.

'You sick son of a bitch!' yelled Dean as his fist collided with the shifter's face.

It knocked the shapeshifter out of balance, and he fell to the floor, sending the knife flying through the air, hitting two pipes with a loud metal clang. Dean was on his feet, stomping on the shapeshifter.

'Dean,' Sam mumbled, 'the bullets, they are...'

'I'm getting you out of here Sammy, hang on!'

But the shifter kicked Dean off with ease, jumping to his feet. Two Deans faced each other off, crouching the lair in boxing stances.

'You sick bastard,'

'Not my impulses I acted on,' said the shifter, tapping his own forehead. 'You got some heavy stuff going on in here, Dean,'

Dean's hands balled to fists and he struck out at the shapeshifter, lunging forward. It was a mistake. Dean lost control. He was angry, out in a rage. Sam cried through the gag

'Dean, no!'

But no-one could hear him. Sam watched the shifter stop Dean with a simple jab to the head. Dean was out cold. The shapeshifter moved back to his table, a wide grin spreading over his face.

'Now, where were we?'

'Mhhh,'

'Oh, my bad, let's remove that gag from your face - it's served its purpose now anyway,'

Sam panted, breathing in the sewer air and not caring for its stench any longer. He looked up at his attacker, who seemed satisfied, for the moment. Maybe this would work, and maybe it wouldn't, but it was worth a shot. And so Sam faced the shapeshifter, and with a voice as level as he could muster, said

'You were going to do me,'

Sam nodded over at the bottles standing on the table, and swallowed. The shifter frowned. Sam watched him move closer to the table, put the gag away. This wasn't going to work! Sam felt the heat rise to his cheeks, his legs trembled. Not-Dean raised an eyebrow, but smiled.

'Right,'

The shifter slid over to Sam, landing his hand on Sam's fly, tugging at the button. Cold sweat ran down the back of Sam's neck when the button flicked open, and the shifter fingered his zipper, pulling at it, slowly. Next thing his jeans were pulled down, pooling over his legs. The shifter gave a yank at the ropes, pushing Sam back, legs flying up and his bottom exposed. Sam willed himself to relax - it would hurt less if he did, he could win some time, and time was all he needed now. Time for Dean to come back to consciousness, time to find the silver bullets, and drive them right through this shifter's heart. Not-Dean entered him. The unknown substance from the bottle did help a little, but it still hurt, especially when the maniac began to move. But Sam didn't say anything, he breathed hard and let it happen, waiting, praying for Dean to wake up.


	3. The Follow Up

A/N: First Season, episode 6 (Skin - violent shapeshifter takes on the form of boyfriends and sexually assaults their women), Sam is 22, Dean 26. Last time the shifter got to Sam, now it's time to get Sam back.

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><p>The Follow Up<p>

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><p>Dean blinked, lying on the hard cold floor. His head stung, and a foul smell spread across his nose, effectively paralyzing his senses. He wondered where he was. Then his eyes flashed wide open, in clear awareness. His brother was bound to a chair, bloody and dishevelled... Under the faint overhead lamp Sam's face was one big shadow, his head lulled forward, dirt stained bangs covering his eyes. There was a figure by the table. Dean scrutinized it, watched its every movement, something about it was so familiar.<p>

'I know just what to do next,' said the man, picking a butcher knife from the table and cupping Sam's bleeding cheek, forcing Sam to look up.

Dean's heart seized. No wonder. The man was a carbon copy of Dean - voice, face, body - everything. He even moved like Dean, as he descended upon Sam, trailing the knife over Sam's naked chest. It all came rushing back to Dean. They were on the trail of a shapeshifter, a violent one, and nothing short of a silver bullet to the heart could stop him.

'I bet Dean never touches you like this, right? Oh, but Sam, he wants to. He wants to lick his way up your throat, to fondle you down there, hehe - you know what I mean,'

Dean listened to all of this with the hottest hatred he'd felt in months, no, maybe in years. It took all he had not to pounce the shifter right then and there, to stand up quietly, and sneak behind a set of crates. Dean panted, his head still hurt, but he imagined it should be a lot less pain than Sammy was feeling right now. So he drove his nails into his knees, willing the pain away. He tried desperately to think. Where, where, where could he find silver?

'Only problem is: you're a boy. And Dean only likes girls.'

Oh no. Dean glanced through the carts at Sammy and his attacker, he saw where the knife was headed.

'You're already so much of a girl in mind, now we just gotta get you a suiting body.'

'Please, please don't do that,'

'Oh, you're begging now? How sexy.'

The shifter raised his knife in the air, just above Sam's hips. He sat down firmer in Sam's lap, positioning himself. Sam gulped and grit his teeth, tears were in his eyes, running down his face, mixed in with sweat, saliva and blood. The shapeshifter swung down, screaming in malicious glee.

'Hello Samantha,'

Dean drove a knife through his double's back. The shifter promptly fell to the ground. Convulsing, shaking and changing, rotting on the floor - Dean's skin turned to a funny mess as the body hollowed out from the inside. Sam watched him in amazement, as Dean began to carefully undo his binds - something he should have done a lot longer ago. Dean cursed himself for being so incompetent.

'How did you do that?'

'What do you mean?'

Sam was untied by now, Dean checking his body for any serious injuries. After seeing a bitten earlobe was the worst damage, Dean stalked back to the 'operating table', coming back with a desinfectant and cotton buds.

'Stay still,' he said, before wiping at Sam carefully, making sure not to miss a spot.

'Exorcise him. How did you do it? I mean, I was gonna tell you where he'd hidden the silver bullets, but then...'

Dean smiled.

'Oh, that? Well, I figured the most important part was not the bullet. Which reminds me,'

Dean kneeled to the ground and stuck his hand in the bloody goo. He pulled it out, and held his hand out before Sam. There was Dean's pendant, Dean's silver pendant.

'But let's not waste time here. We got to get you cleaned up and out of this place - it's giving me the creeps.'

Dean made a face and got on with bandaging his brother, carefully ignoring the rips in Sam's clothes. He didn't even think of what happened while he was unconscious. No, it was easier to just shut his mind off. Dean knew that. It was a beginner's mistake to overthink things, to stress out over the psychological torment your attackers dished out at you. As long as Sam was alive, he'd be fine. Dean kept telling himself that. Helping his brother stand, and walking him through the sewers, up onto the main street. It was already daytime. The light stung his eyes, and for a second he had to let Sam go.

'Dean, are you okay?'

'Yeah, I'm fine.'

They scrambled up a busy sidewalk. Looks got thrown their way, but Dean didn't particularly care. They'd come out of there alive, he'd killed the monster, and hundreds of lives were safe again. Yaay them. Then Sam goes and spoils it all.

'What about Zach?' he says, 'How do we prove his innocence?'

'We don't.'

Sam stops walking and spreads his arms out. Dean sighs, either here or in the car, there's gonna be another argument. Bye bye to the peace and quiet. He puts his best effort to stop the fire, but knows Sam isn't going to let this slide. These people are his 'friends', apparently they're important.

'That's what lawyers are for - to prove their client's innocence. It's not our job.'

He's right, the minute Dean's done talking, Sam rages in with what their job is and what it isn't, mixing it up with delusions of what friendship is, and worst of all - morality. It makes Dean's head ache. He tries to ignore most of it until they reach the car, get in, and Dean can finally press gas. That makes everything better, just escaping in the road, letting it take him anywhere, regardless of Sam's juvenile bullshit.


End file.
